Return to the Era of Peace
by HarryPotterManiacWrites
Summary: Harry has returned to the year 2005 after changing the past in 1977. But what does life hold for him now? Has the future been changed for the good or bad? There is more to this mystery than Harry ever suspected. Sequel to 'Back to the Time of the Unknown'.


**A/N: This is a sequel to my first story, Back to the Time of the Unknown. I would advise you to read it first, as this has many references back to it, and may become quite confusing to first-time readers. I will, however, be posting a summary of each chapter from ****Back to the Time of the Unknown** on my profile page in a few days' time for reference if you need it. 

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling, the leader of the reading revolution.**

* * *

"Come back, Harry," she said, "Come back for me".

Harry frowned at the red haired woman standing before him confusedly. "What? Ginny?" he asked.

She smiled sadly and repeated, "Come back for me. For us."

* * *

Harry awoke to feel something soft and lumpy cushioning his head. The last thing he remembered was a towering dragon of fire about to devour him. So, logically, Harry had died and now he was sleeping on a cloud in heaven. Probably.

But, thought Harry, if he was dead, then what had his dream about Ginny meant? He wondered despairingly if this meant she had died too. But that wasn't possible. Harry had changed the future! Voldemort had died years earlier than originally! Even if his time travel had been the cause of his own death, his parents would be alive! They would surely help Ginny with James and the new baby if he wasn't there to do so. Harry wondered if there was a way he could watch them from his resting place on the cloud.

Harry peeked an eye open. The sight that met him was not, in fact, a bright blue sky dotted with fluffy clouds, as he had initially imagined. No, Harry was lying on a bed in a completely unfamiliar bedroom. Nevertheless, he was alive! Harry sat up quickly, ignoring as his head began to throb.

There was a large poster of Quidditch players wearing navy colored robes and zooming in and out of the goalposts, waving at their audience. At the bottom, was the inscription: Puddlemere United victory '05. Besides this and a plain wooden clock, nothing else adorned the walls. On the floor however, was a mess of unwashed robes, old newspapers, and candy wrappers. While Harry had never been the tidiest person, even he would say this room was a pigsty. The room was barren except for the bed, a seemingly unused wardrobe, and a bedside table.

Harry fumbled to retrieve his wand from its pocket in his robes, only to find he was no longer wearing robes. Instead, he wore a pair of old faded green pajamas that Harry did not remember buying, let alone putting on. He turned to the bedside table, hoping to find his familiar holly and Phoenix feather wand. Though relieved to see a wand on the table, Harry soon realized it was not the one he had been using for the past 15 years.

This wand was a couple inches shorter, and when Harry picked it up, it felt heavy and brittle. This aside, it succeeded when Harry attempted to banish an empty sugar-quill packet, but Harry couldn't help but mourn the loss of his old wand. Then, next to where the wand had been sitting was a frame holding a photograph of a small family.

Excitement blooming in his chest, Harry squinted at it. The picture depicted two adults, a man and woman, in their mid thirties, sitting on a couch and smiling up at the camera. The man had messy black hair and wire-rimmed glasses. Though smiling, his hazel eyes twinkled mischievously behind his specs. The woman was laughing at the camera, a thick book spread across her lap. Sitting at their feet were two boys, both obviously just returned from Hogwarts, as they still had their uniforms on. One looked exactly like his father sitting above them, except with green eyes. Harry's attention, though, was quickly drawn to the younger boy. The younger boy looked more like their mother, but had his father's eyes and retained the hereditary messy black hair. Harry watched, transfixed, as the two boys in the photograph played wizard's chess. His counterpart, the older boy, was obviously losing spectacularly. The younger boy was smirking at him.

Harry felt his eyes sting as he stared, immersed with the little scene. All regret at losing his old wand gone, he was filled with a painful joy. He had succeeded; his parents were alive! And he had a brother! A younger sibling just like Ron had! They would play Quidditch together, Harry envisioned. They would argue, cause mayhem at Hogwarts, and be close to each other in a most special way. While the Weasleys had always welcomed Harry into their family, Harry knew he had never had the same bond the Weasley children had with one another. And now . . . and now he would have that, too.

Slipping out of the bed, wand in hand, Harry walked to the door at the far left corner of the room. When he opened the door, Harry saw a narrow hallway extending to his right, opening up to a little kitchen and front room. To his left was a door leading to the bathroom. Choosing to explore the rest of what seemed to be a flat, Harry headed to the right. In the front room sat only a long lumpy sofa and a floor lamp. Against the wall was a fireplace. Coincidentally, as Harry stepped forward, green fire suddenly blazed from it, and a witch stepped out of the flames.

She had curly blonde hair and wore robes of a dark magenta. "Harry!" she exclaimed, frowning at his disheveled appearance, "Why are you not ready yet?" Then, with an exasperated look, she said, "Don't tell me you forgot. _Again_."

"I-I . . . What? Lavender?" he asked, "Lavender Brown?"

The woman rolled her eyes at him. "Yes. Our _date_, Harry?"

When he continued to stare at her blankly, she grumbled, "I don't know why I put up with this. Once we are married, I promise I will _make_ you be on time."

Harry gaped at her. "Married?" he asked. "But . . . but Ginny!"

"I know you wanted to wait, but-" Lavender paused as Harry's words registered in her mind. "Ginny? Who's Ginny?"

Harry narrowed his eyes at her. "Ginny - Ginevra Potter, my wife."

Lavender slapped him. "I don't know what is wrong with you today, but don't talk to me until you've figured it out." With a dramatic gesture, she pulled something off of her ring finger and threw it at Harry's feet before flooding away.

Harry stared at the object on the floor. It was a ring. He picked it up, running a finger over the diamond at the front. He figured he had proposed to Lavender with it. What Harry found intriguing, though, was that the alternate version of himself whom he had replaced had not used the same engagement ring as Harry himself had when proposing to Ginny.

After browsing through his family vault, filled with family keepsakes and treasures, he had found his mother's old engagement ring. He had found it fitting for Ginny to be the next to wear it. This triggered new thoughts in Harry's mind. Where was Ginny? What had gone so wrong in this world to cause Harry and Ginny to never get married? Or, an even worse thought, why hadn't Lavender known who Ginny was? Did Harry's wife even . . . exist?

The euphoria Harry had experience earlier upon finding he had a family was long gone. He wanted - no, needed to know what had come of Ginny. His best bet would be to visit the Weasleys. Hopefully, Ron or Hermione may be home and able to explain what was going on. With this in mind, Harry Apparated just outside Ottery St. Catchpole, by the Burrow.

Harry walked up to the front door feeling slightly cheered at the sight of the disorganized garden filled with gnomes. At least some things never change, he mused. Harry knocked twice, hoping someone was home. After a few seconds, the door creaked open slightly, and a familiar face peeked out.

"Ron!" Harry grinned, finally seeing his best friend after several months, "Thank goodness you're here. I need to talk to you."

His smile, however, was not mirrored on Ron's face. "Back again, Potter? I thought I made it clear to you yesterday that you are not welcome to snoop around here." He opened the door all the way and stood in a way Harry supposed was meant to be intimidating. Harry noticed he wore the standard black robes of the Aurors.

"You're an Auror finally! Good on you, mate!" he exclaimed. "I know you'll do well."

"That's Weasley to you, Potter. Auror Weasley."

"Er . . ." Harry wondered what had gotten into his friend. Deciding to change the subject, he asked, "How's Hermione doing?"

Ron faltered for a moment, clearly thrown off, "Hermione? You mean that annoying Granger girl from Hogwarts? Why would I know anything about her?"

"Well," Harry began, "Aren't you two-"

"Never mind," Ron cut in. "Now get off my family's property, or I'll be forced to arrest you."

"But Ro-, er, Auror Weasley! It's important! You have to tell me what happened to Ginny!" Harry protested.

Ron's eyes flashed, "I don't care if you are having a rough time of it right now, Potter, but you have no right to speak about Ginevra here."

"Ginevra? Since when have you called her Ginev-" Harry was stopped by Ron's shout.

"That's it, Potter! I've been lenient with you, but you are obviously too stupid to take a hint and leave." Ron snapped his wand out and lunged at Harry, yelling, "Stupefy!"

Harry dodged to the side, and Ron stumbled over the front steps. "_What the hell, Ron!_" Harry exclaimed.

Ron snarled in reply and screamed, "Levicorpus!"

But, Harry was quicker as he produced a shield and disarmed Ron easily. Too easily. He stared incredulously at Ron, who stood gasping in front of him. "You're an Auror?"

Ron scowled, "What of it? You didn't seem so surprised earlier. You said I'd do well."

"NO," Harry shook his head vehemently, looking at Auror Weasley in a newfound light, "Not you. Ron would do well. _My_ Ron would do well." Harry felt tears sting his eyes as he repeated, "_My_ Ron."

He was so caught up that he did not notice Auror Weasley rear back a fist until it was too late. Harry passed out to a blinding pain in his temple and the thought: it is not supposed to be like this.

* * *

"-will be just fine. Thanks, Ron," Harry heard a familiar voice sometime later as he regained consciousness, head throbbing once more. He peered around himself. He was in St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Harry looked up as the person speaking earlier strode into the room and over to his bed. Standing before him and wearing Healer robes was Neville Longbottom.

"Neville?" Harry asked uncertainly, afraid of another personality transplant.

"Hey, Harry," Neville said happily, "Ron just brought you in. You took a sure nasty hit there. Any idea how you got it?"

Harry frowned, "Didn't Ron say?"

"No," said Neville absentmindedly as he measured a cup of pain-relief potion, "Said he didn't know - apparently he found you knocked out just outside the garden of the Burrow."

Harry snorted and Neville cracked a smile, saying, "But he did seem in an awful rush to leave before you woke."

Harry sat up and accepted the potion Neville handed to him and downed it in a gulp before asking casually, "So, Neville, a Healer, eh? You didn't want to go into Herbology?"

Neville looked at him oddly, "Herbology? Now why would I do that? You were always better than me at that. I decided to follow in my father's footsteps, remember?"

"But weren't your parents Aurors?"

"My dad was going to be, but when You-Know-Who was defeated, he decided to become a Healer instead. My mum's still an Auror, though. Don't you remember when you visited a couple summers ago? Hogwarts wasn't that long ago."

"Oh, right," Harry said dumbly, "So, your parents - they're all right, then?"

If Neville found anything odd about Harry's question, he didn't show it, "Yeah, they're doing fine. Mum was asking about you a couple nights ago; it's been a while. You haven't visited since-" Neville stopped abruptly.

"Since what?" Harry asked.

Neville sighed, "Anyway, you should talk to Leah and Liam. They understand what you're going through better than anyone else. I'm no mind healer, but I think it would do all three of you some good to talk about Alex." Neville winced as though expecting some kind of explosion from Harry.

"What?" Harry asked blankly, "What am I going through? And who are Leah, Liam, and Alex?"

Neville's eyes widened. "You mean . . . you don't remember? Wow, you must have hit your head harder than I thought."

"I don't remember what?" Harry asked urgently, a sneaking suspicion growing in the back of his mind that he hoped Neville would assuage.

"If you don't remember, I don't think its in my place to tell you," Neville said seriously.

"Tell me, Neville!" Harry said, heart pounding erratically in his ears.

"Th-There was an accident last October," Neville stuttered, "Your family - they're . . . they're d-dead."

* * *

**A/N: Please Review! Thanks!**


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